Riots and Revolutions: or the Scots are revolting And so is Baldrick
by Hamfast Gamgee
Summary: A tale of Blackadder no.3, getting up to the type of thing he normally does. Please R and R, Ham. Rated K for some slight bad language


Riots and Revolutions

or the Scots are revolting. And so is Baldrick.

This is a Blackadder fic featurning Blackadder no.3 of the Regency period. One thing I have noticed in reading it is that I am a bit unfair to Baldrick and so is Blackadder. I'm not sure we would accept all of that bullying to domestic staff today! Oh, well, this is the eighteenth century and I don't think this Blackadder has ever heard of political correctness! I suppose I have been a bit mean to the Scots as well, I don't really mind them, just because I had a cold and wet holiday in the Highlands once, that is not really their fault, so please accept my grovelling apology in advance! This is all pretty much tongue in check! Oh and I wrote this entire tale, simply to get one gag in! Hope you enjoy, please make any comments, Ham!

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In the late 18th century in a fashionable if rather scruffy, coffee shop was one Edmund Blackadder, butler to the Prince Regent at the start of a night on the town. He finished eating his pie and the last of his coffee and said 'Thank you', to Mrs Miggins the pie shop lady and wondered outside in the evening. He had a drink at a local tavern swapping banter with some of the locals and moved on. He passed an attractive young lady on the corner of the street in the blackness of the London night.

'Fancy a good time?' asked she.

'Oh, I intend to have one, I intend to have one,' he replied with a smile, gave her a long kiss, possibly a grope and threw her a coin. He then moved on. Up a few stairs were one of the most fashionable clubs in London was. The young sheep shearers for the extremely rich and stupid. He moved to the window, got a tantalizing look at some lights, a fire and the sounds of laughter and came up against a very strong 18th century bouncer. 'Good evening,' said Blackadder to the club doorman.

'Where do you think you are going?' replied he.

'For a good time in there!' Blackadder said, indicating the club.

'Absolutely no way. You are nowhere near rich or stupid enough. We don't mind one, but not without both. On your way!' Blackadder tried to protest, but the man shoved a huge arm in front of his face, then kicked him all the way down the stairs.

The next morning Blackadder was sitting in a chair in the palace's kitchen were he spent a lot of his time at work with Baldrick his dogsbody and Mrs Miggins. He was nursing a bruise on his mouth, but nothing worse than that. Baldrick was busy doing some kind of work and Mrs Miggins was making a little bit of a fuss over him. Baldrick turned to look at his master, 'So, then did you have a good time last night Mr. B it looked like you did!' he asked with a smile.

Blackadder sighed, motioned Mrs Miggins to move so he could have a sip of coffee then replied, 'Well, it started of all right. But as usual as soon as I try to get anywhere exciting I am not allowed in. Frankly, I just need more money to be honest,'

'I'm not sure why you would want to. I have heard that the young sheep shearers is full of sexual deviants!'

'Well, you would know all about that Baldrick,' Blackadder thought, 'You might well be right. Not that there is that much wrong with sexual deviancy in moderation. But they are all very rich. And influential. Just the type of people I will be able to manipulate to improve my wealth and standing in society. Oh, ahh, actually I might need you again Mrs Miggins, thank you,' Blackadder finished his coffee and started on his breakfast of eggs. 'But that could be about to change. Some of my investments are about to pay off I believe.' A cough from upstairs reminded Blackadder of his master. 'Not that I can tell that to prince thickhead upstairs. He thinks that investment is something you wear!'

'I do a little bit of investy myself!' said Baldrick, much to Blackadders amazement.

'No you don't,' said Blackadder not hiding his scorn, he had never heard of such a ridiculous notion.

'I do so, sir and in the finest of currencies. Turnips.'

Baldrick lead Blackadder to one of the dingeist cupboards in the kitchen. Blackadder had heard of food and hygiene, but wanted no truck with it. This was the eighteenth century after all. But this was rather foul. In the cupboard was the finest and most absurd collection of Turnips anyone could ever see. Large ones, small ones, brown ones, white ones, spotted ones. One could almost imagine little people living lives inside them. But Blackadder wasn't impressed. 'Actually, Baldrick, forget it! There is nothing which you own which could be of the slightest interest to me oh, and get all this kitchen cleaned,' and gave Baldrick a clip around the head.

But Baldrick seemed unusually thoughtful. 'Don't you ever worry about doing that, Mr.B?'

'Worry about what?'

'Bullying, downtrodding using and insulting me all the time.'

'Frankly no. Why should I worry about that?'

'Aren't you afraid that one day I might snap and fight back, turn maybe rise in station in society then you might be sorry?'

'Baldrick, the only way you are going to rise is up at the end of my boot!' Blackadder thought about been true to his word, but decided against it and went up stairs to bring Prince George his breakfast. It was approaching 12 o'clock after all! But the Prince was up. He knew that Blackadder was out as well and asked him how it went. Blackadder gave a similar reply. 'But I do have some very cunning investments. Actually I will just check how they are going,' and Blackadder consulted a little book he had.

'What is that book you have?' asked the Prince.

'The economic history of Britain 1750 - 1820. Very handy,'

'Well, I'm not sure why, these people have asked for money and I might just oblige!'

Prince George handed Blackadder a pamphlet. 'Invest in the French Aristocracy. We know how to get ahead. Hmmm not sure that one has much of a future, I would be avoiding France from 1788 or so. I think Scottish Iron is a safer bet. Which reminds me. I'm off at the weekend, I did give you plenty of notice. I need to go up to Scotland to collect on some of my earnings. And talk to a few people. I hope you can manage without me for a few days!' Blackadder gave one of his tight smiles.

'I don't know about that. Scotland! I might accompany you. See the sights of my royal Scottish ancestry!'

Blackadder gave a little groan. He wasn't all that keen on the Prince accompanying him. He would have liked a break. He replied, 'But you haven't got any Scottish ancestry. Your lot became Kings because everyone was so fed up with the Scottish ones.' And for them to be worse than George, they had to be pretty bad Blackadder thought to himself.

'If you say so,' said George agreeing. Then he continued, 'Book me a ticket on that coach, I wish to see my ancient family home,' listening wasn't George's strong suit. Actually it was rather hard to say what his strong suit was. Not his brains, he was well-known for been the thickest member of the aristocracy in London, not his charm, he had all the charm of... something very charmless, the sexual prowess of a man after too many pints of strong beer. Perhaps, as Blackadder had once commented, it was that he was born into a family that regularly received extraordinarily large sums of cash from Parliament. But anyway, Scotland was their destination and to Scotland they went.

In Edinburgh, the viewers know this is Edinburgh due to the Scottish flags, pictures, and some bagpipes been played, and a picture of Edinburgh castle and if this wasn't clear enough a caption saying 'Edinburgh,' Blackadder and Baldrick are finishing off supper in a pie-shop curiously similar to that of Mrs Miggins. In fact the serving lady did look very much like Mrs Miggins save she wore a tartan and had a striking clump of red hair. 'It is strange, Mr.B, but if you were to take away some Scottish decorations, this place looks just like the pie shop which we know back in London!'

Blackadder gave Baldrick one of his looks. 'That was strangely perceptive of you. And you are right in a way. The Miggins pie shops are a national chain. They are about everywhere. And they do tend to look the same. They are designed the same way so that people know they are in a Mrs Miggins. Also, there is a Miggins family seemingly that run these places everywhere. Some type of throwback. But at the same time like to take in a bit of the local culture such as here in usually the most tacky way imaginable. Good evening!' he smiled at Mrs McMiggins. 'It is a bit noisy out side as well,' he commented as a loud bang, possibly an explosion was heard.

Baldrick took a little look. 'Seems to be a lot of excitement as well. People running around, dancing, shouting things!'

'Well, it's a Friday night. Some people want to enjoy themselves. But I am off to bed, goodnight,' said Blackadder.

As Baldrick looked flames sprang up from a part of Edinburgh. 'Looks like they are having a hot time!' thought he.

Early that morning, Blackadder was waken up with a loud banging at the door by Baldrick. 'Sir, sir, sir!'

'What?'

'The Scots are revolting,'

'Well, that is certainly true. Soap has not made it to everyone this far up north. And do you know what counts for a delicacy up here? Fried Earwig. In chocolate. But one can with intelligence make a little money out of them which I intend to do. But I must say, I fail to see why you have woken me up at 6 am to tell me this!'

Then there was a great noise and the door was force open. In marched a rebellious Scottish mob. They were dressed in various Scottish drabs, tartan, Scotland scarfs, some were playing drums and a few were waving flags at the back singing Bay City Rollers numbers. Blackadder saw what was happening and rather nimbly put away the Economic history book he was reading and looked at them. Blackadder was clad in a classic sleeping gear complete with sleeping socks and hat.

'And what do you all want?' asked he.

'Arrr, what the flimm do we want? Freedom! Rebellion! Chaos! An end to everything. No reading, no lawyers, no learning, just us as the mob ruling. And no to anyone English. If there is one thing we can't stand it is the English. Bastards to a man. If we see anyone English we will string them up.' These proposals were greeted to much cheers from the crowd that had invaded the inn. Some started waving Scottish scarfs over their heads in unison singing along to the Scottish numbers.

One young lad came up to Blackadder, 'And I am Will! I have had quite a time. Framed for murder, befriending a Scottish rebel, been chased by English troops all around the Highlands, been in an uncomfortable middle place between the English and some Scottish bandits, witnessing dramatic sword fights, horse chases, shipwrecks, pirates, for such a young child as me, how did I manage to survive!' Blackadder looked at him not saying a word as the boy told him of his misfortunes.

'Shove off,' said Blackadder giving the lad a clip around the ear. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Stevenson characters.

'Lords! Even Long John wasn't that bad!' muttered Will as he fled.

Seeing the way the wind was blowing, Blackadder put on quite an impressive Scottish accent. 'And I fancy much the same. Down to the English, what a bunch of bastards! Thats what we all think down at the Loch Klyne.' With that he moved down, motioned Baldrick and the Prince to join him and tried to move through the Scottish throng.

But this wasn't what the crowd had in mind. Mrs Mcmiggins came up to him and said to the throng. 'Scottish, not a chance, this man is English, I saw him come up on the order book. Plus his accent is all wrong. Loch Klyne indeed, he has a classic border accent. His making it up. Down with the Sassenach!' If Blackadder had any ideas that this Mrs Miggins was to be on his side, he would be sadly mistaken. The crowd gave a cheer and pulled him and Prince George over to some ropes.

'So, what do you people actually want?' Blackadder asked again.

'Freedom from southern oppression. An end to all progress. No factories, no mining, no industry. We all want to live on the land. Fine we might have the odd famine were thousands die but we can cope with that! No learning, no brains. We want everyone to be equal and the same for everyone. What we want is people with no intelligence, no skills, nothing good or breeding which could be said about them at all,' there was considerable cheering from the northern mob to all of this.

'Sounds to me like you need Baldrick, it's a shame he's not Scottish,' Blackadder muttered too loudly.

Baldrick had heard the mutter. 'Not so, I am Scottish, a descendant from the McBaldricks. Look I have a tartan!' Blackadder hadn't noticed but that morning Baldrick had downed a charming skirt with attractive colours with lines on it.

The rest of the crowd had heard Blackadders mutter as well. They made a spontaneous decision and elected Baldrick as their leader.

They cried, 'McBaldrick, McBaldrick for king!' and hoisted him high in the air on their shoulders and danced around.

Blackadder was distinctly unimpressed. 'Look, I didn't expect you to take me seriously, I was taking the piss!'

Baldrick laughed at him. 'Don't worry sir, I have a cunning plan!'

Blackadder and George were head down tied up hanging over the river in the dampness of the Edinburgh morning. George was groaning, this was not the way he liked to spend his mornings, but then neither did Blackadder. Also, something was puzzling him. 'There is something I don't understand. I spend some time studying my economic history book, but it makes no mention of riots across half of Scotland in the late eighteenth century, taking place most of the year.'

George gave a nonunderstanding shrug.

Realization then dawned upon Blackadder. 'Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I've just realized. This is a BBC production isn't it? Historical accuracy isn't their forty. Worse, this is a fanfiction version of this production. Not just the Beeb really, that Shakespeare bloke started it. Well, just about anything could happen really. I'm only surprised we don't get freed by the American marines landing in on their helicopters.' There was a whirling noise as said helicopter landed.

An American marine appeared in full army gear complete with cigar. 'Sorry, we're relieving Mafeking,' he said, then disappeared.

This didn't improve Blackadders mood any. But he did have some hope. 'I'll just get Baldrick to let us out when he comes,'

'How are you going to do that?'

'I'll tell him to let us out or I will kick him from here to London. Oh, here he is!'

Baldrick came up to them, 'What do you think of my cunning plan?' said he.

'It's not a very cunning plan is it Baldrick, simply hang me and George down here,'

'I like it,' Baldrick laughed.

'Anyway, come on let us both down and we'll get out of here,' ordered Blackadder sharply.

'Well, I'm not sure I wish to do that,' said Baldrick.

Blackadder suddenly had nasty suspicions in his mind. He looked at Baldrick, 'What exactly do you mean?'

'Well, I've been thinking of all the times you've bullied me, hit me, made fun of me, made me do your work for you, you lazy bastard, that this is now my time for revenge! The time I gain freedom from domestic servitude! When I lead the huddled masses to freedom and start a golden age of freedom, democracy and equality were the country can do what they like! As long as they obey me of course! Then I will set up a one party state, rip of the finances and any who disagrees will be shot!'

'Well, at least he's more honest than some revolutionaries!' thought Blackadder. 'And he does seem to have widened his vocabulary considerably since he's been up here. Must be the porridge. I've always distrusted it.' But the revolutionary Baldrick was getting on his nerves. 'Baldrick, you listen to me. You are my dogsbody. You are a disgusting turd on the floor of the Princes palace. You do not go around growing in character. That's quite out of character! You are an idiot and the butt of my jokes. And you are very good at it! Why can't you just be happy with that?'

'Do you know something Blackadder?' said Baldrick.

'What?'

'That type of talk doesn't win favours with me! Ha, ha, ha!' and Baldrick departed laughing leaving the pair hanging.

The Prince wailed, 'What are we going to do, our turd has turned up and ponged in our face,'

'An interesting way of putting it. But I suppose that you are correct. I'm going to have to think of something very cunning indeed!' He was silent for a while thinking. So too was the Prince, but this was of little consequence! Then Blackadder said with a cunning tone in his voice, 'Ahha, I've thought of something!'

Later on, Baldrick returned with his followers. 'Time to show justice to these Sassanac scum,' growled someone.

'Hello, English man,' said Will returning to annoy Blackadder.

'Yes, of course,' said Blackadder sweetly. 'But I wonder if I could point out a couple of things. Firstly, this McBaldrick of yours is not such a penniless dogsbody as it might appear. He is in fact, he owner of the finest collection of Turnips in the world! Also, he isn't scottish don't be deceived. I think his grandfather was once whipped by a Scottish borderer for raiding, but that's as far as it goes. The McBaldrick tartan was invented by Germans around 50 years ago!'

'OOOOo!' cried the crowd in amazement.

'Do you have a large collection of Turnips Baldrick?'

Baldrick was in something of a quandary. He knew in his thick brain that had he told people about his Turnip ownership that this would expose his claim as a landless peasant as a fraud. But on the other hand he did love his Turnips and talking about it. He just couldn't deny this. 'Yes, I do, it has even been commented upon the finest bunch of Turnips in all of the land! Such a lovely thing, I have Turnips from all over the country, trimmed, papered and looked after. Indeed...'

But that was enough for the crowd. In an instant, Baldrick was dethroned and joined Blackadder and the Prince in chains. But Blackadder said, 'Well, now that you owe me a favour you should trust me. I am just a poor butler of no major alms at all and indeed of Scottish descent,' this was true at least Why not just realise me with this simpleton,' Blackadder indicated the Prince, 'And I will deal with McBaldrick!' Fortunately for Blackadder Mrs McMiggins was not present. It might have been a different conclusion if she was. It might not have been entirely logical, but revolutionary crowds are like that, they freed Blackadder and his companions.

For the next few days or so, Blackadder kept his head down, whilst English soldiers arrived and put down this group of revolutionaries. He did keep his head enough to find some documents in the Inn and to hold onto them. These were those that showed his claim to some of the Scottish factories so that he could still make some modest money. When everything was over, all 3 made it back to London, Blackadder keeping Baldrick in chains for most of the journey!

Back in London, Baldrick was in stokes with a sign saying, 'Idiot, please throw something at it,' Blackadder came up to him. 'How sweet is revenge, Balders! Do you know that the authorities wanted to transport you to America but I thought that was too kind for you. Someone might actually like you there. They can be a funny people. No, I persuaded them that a far better sentence for you would be simply to spend time with me. Were I intend to gain revenge by making your life as much of a sheer misery as far as I can. McBaldrick indeed!'

The End


End file.
